Confused
by Soccer122016
Summary: Clary is kidnapped and she is very confused.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Clary tugged on the strings of her green sweatshirt as she waited for her best friend, Simon, to get to school. He was practically always late, but this time would set a record. He had only thirty seconds to get into the classroom. She silently prayed that he would show up because otherwise, no one would sit next to her. She wasn't exactly the most popular girl in school, but neither was Simon so they fit together perfectly.

The bell rang and Simon burst into the class along with it. The teacher gave him a pointed look. Simon opened his eyes widely and ran over to where Clary was sitting, hitting his knee on a desk and making a couple of the kids in the room laugh. Simon was anything but graceful. Clary rolled my eyes and whispered to him.

"What's your excuse this time?"

"Rebecca's car," he responded whilst facing forward. "It's a piece of shit. She got it from our uncle on Friday and it's already broken down on us like five times." Clary chuckled and pulled out one of her many notebooks. Mrs. Kiako was a very fast-paced teacher and Clary intended to not be left behind. She would help Simon with his work later.

The day went by pretty smoothly. Chemistry, English, Pre-Calc, A.P US History, Cooking, Art, Health. It was boring, but she reminded herself that every day was a day closer to graduation. As a junior, that left her with about a year and a half of high school left.

She sat with Simon in the library after school so they could do their homework together. It was a system that had been successful in getting them straight A's since freshman year. Plus, if Clary didn't get her work done right after school, she wouldn't do it at all.

"Simon, you're doing that completely wrong," Clary told her best friend. Simon ran his hands through his curly brown hair and clasped them together at the back of his head.

"I don't get any of this," he groaned.

"That's what you've got me for," Clary smiled. "Come on. Adding up chemical equations is so easy if you do it the way I learned how to. Here, I'll show you."

"What would I do without you?"

"Fail chemistry?" She offered.

* * *

><p>"Clary," her mother called, "could you come set the table please?"<p>

"I guess," she shouted back. Her parents had invited some random people over, friends from her father's college years, for dinner. On the bright side, it forced her mother to actually cook something nice for everyone. Usually she got so busy and into her art that either Clary had to make dinner for herself or order pizza.

"Why are these people coming over again?" Clary asked for the third time.

Jocelyn sighed. "Robert and your father go way back. Valentine wanted to welcome him back into town. Please, Clarissa, be on your best behavior." Her mother looked immensely bored and uninterested, but Clary shrugged it off and assumed that she'd just much rather be working on a painting or something.

Clary nodded, trying to keep all the names her mother told her earlier, in order. Jace, Izzy, Max and Alex. Scratch that, it was Alec. She groaned and threw herself on the couch in the living room. She was wearing a white summer dress and she wanted to rip it off right then and there, but she felt it best not to surprise their guests by acting like a stripper. She doubted that her father would approve of that.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Clary pushed herself off of the sofa with only a slight amount of struggling.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood," she greeted as she opened the door. Standing behind it were a family of beautiful people. That sounds odd, but it's pretty accurate. Her dad's college bud, Robert, had a wide and tall frame, a strong jaw with little stubble on it, and short brown hair. Mayrse had curly black hair that looked way better than Clary's (she never knew how to tame it very well) and she was tall and thin. Their daughter, Isabelle, looked like a younger version of Mrs. Lightwood with a kinder, more mischievous glint to her almost black eyes. They had three boys. A black haired boy who seemed to be very well put together and the oldest, a blonde boy with wavy hair who looked to be the middle child, and a small kid with curly brown hair and big glasses. He looked very much like Simon and she automatically liked him.

"Mr. Lightwood," her father boomed as he came up behind Clary, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's great to see you. Mayrse, you look marvelous. Jace, Izzy, Alec, Max, it's always a pleasure." Wow, he was really putting on a show. She'd never seen her father smile so widely. It looked very alien to her and honestly kind of scary. He wasn't mean, but he definitely was not a warm person. Not how he was acting like now anyway.

Mr. Lightwood nodded and his wife put on a plastered smile. Clary had a pretty strong ability of being able to tell when someone's smile wasn't genuine and Mrs. Lightwood's smile was about as genuine as the crab in California Rolls. "You have a lovely home," she said.

Valentine ushered them inside, greeting them all personally, Max being the last one in the house. Eventually, everyone was sitting comfortably around the long dining room table. Clary was seated in between the two she assumed were twins, Isabelle and Alec. Her mother brought in the big pot of soup and filled everyone's bowls with it. It looked kind of disgusting to Clary, but as she tasted it, she realized that it wasn't too bad. Judging by the others' facial expressions, they liked it too.

"So, Robert, what have you been up to recently," my father asked.

He swallowed and set down his spoon. "Just climbing up the business ladder at work. How about you? How have you been?"

Valentine smiled and told him about the corporation that he worked at, something Clary cared nothing about. Honestly, the whole dinner thing was pretty much an incredibly boring conversation between Robert and her father. The three oldest Lightwood children kept staring at her funny so Clary kept her head down towards her bowl. She was glad when the whole ordeal was over.

"Well, you have a great night," Valentine said. "We must keep in touch."

"Of course," Robert agreed. "Thank you for the meal, Jocelyn, it was delicious. Next time, dinner's on me." My mother and father smiled, waved one last time and shut the door.

"So," her father said as they were cleaning up the kitchen afterwards, "how did you like them?"

"They were wonderful," her mother smiled.

"I'm pretty sure the kids didn't talk once," Clary muttered.

"That's because they're well-behaved," Valentine gave her a pointed look. Clary rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure that the only things she said were nice things. How is that not better than not talking at all?

"Also," she continued, "how come you've never talked about these people before? You acted as if you two were super great friends, but I've never heard about any Lightwoods."

"Don't be silly. Your father has talked about them loads of times. Right honey?"

"Of course! He was my closest friend in college. My roommate in fact." Clary sighed, pretty positive that there had been no talk of that family in her house. She rolled down her sleeves and excused herself from kitchen duty so she could go to sleep. She was feeling fairly exhausted and she had school to go to the next day.

* * *

><p>Clary woke up in the middle of the night to a noise coming from the corner of her room. She was pretty sure that she could see the outline of a body, but of course, it was just a jacket or something, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep again. Suddenly, there was a hand on her mouth. She tried to scream, but the hand stifled it.<p>

"Jace, you can let go now. Her parents are taken care of," a female voice said. Taken care of? What did that mean? _Did they kill her parents, _she thought in alarm. _And how many people are in my room? And why?_

"Good," the voice next to her said, releasing his hand from her mouth. "I think she bit me." Clary smirked to herself, hoping they couldn't see her pride in the darkness. She had, in fact, bitten him.

"Who are you people?"

"You don't remember us?" The boy, Jace asked. "That's odd. I'm pretty memorable. Anyway, I'm Jace and that's Izzy. Alec is… Elsewhere at the moment." The memories from earlier that night flooded her brain and she suddenly remembered who they were. The Lightwoods. Was that even their name? Or were they pretending to be someone else entirely?

"Alec's waiting in the car, Jace. Quit the small talk and let's go."

"But small talk is my forte," he complained.

"I'm not going with you," Clary said confidently.

"I'll drag you kicking and screaming if I have to," Jace warned.

"Just pick her up already and let's go."

Jace put his hands under her arms and pulled her up, but she wasn't going without a fight. Clary slipped out of his grasp and grabbed the night lamp of her end table. "I will hit you with this. Very hard."

"You don't scare me, little girl." But apparently she did because he resorted to using a tranquilizer. He put the shot in her arm, but not before getting hit in the chest with the deadly weapon of Clary's. The night lamp. The one that Simon had gotten her for Christmas with Tardis all over it from Dr. Who. She smiled to herself, quickly thinking to thank him for it later, if she got the chance. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure she'd be able to because she was slipping out of consciousness fast. She hit the ground hard, slamming her head on her bed frame.

"Izzy," Jace said, "you carry her. My chest is bleeding like a bitch." Pieces of glass from the lightbulb had punctured Jace's skin and blood was heavily seeping through his white t-shirt.

"And just how does a bitch bleed more than an ordinary person," Izzy asked with a sweet smile.

"Because they're ugly, I don't know, just carry her." Izzy rolled her eyes but made her way over to the small red-headed girl anyway, gingerly picking her up off of the floor and slinging her over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>Clary woke up in a bed wearing some ugly gray pajamas. She shuddered, wondering who changed her into them, but she had a bigger problem on her hands. She had just been kidnapped by her dad's college bud's kids. If she ever made it home, she was so going to throw the <em>"that's because they're well-behaved" <em>thing back in his face. She was no expert, but she was pretty sure that stealing someone was not a very well-behaved thing to do.

"Oh good, you're up," a female voice said to her right. Clary shrunk back in her bed, afraid of whomever was speaking. As much as she loved to put up that brave façade, she was genuinely scared right now.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," the girl said. Clary gave her a once-over. She had shoulder-length brown hair that was thick and wavy and she looked to be tall, but Clary couldn't tell because she was sitting down. Her eyes were a brown color and she was pretty. Not beautiful, but pretty.

"I'm just as much of a prisoner as you," she sighed.

"What exactly are we here for," Clary asked, hoping the girl would have some answers.

"I'm not quite sure," the girl responded, her British accent very strong. "I've only been here for a week and I haven't found out very much. The curious thing is that every night I'm taken from my room, yet I wake up back in bed without any memories. Sometimes I have…"

"Have what?"

"Sometimes I have nightmares that my skin is melting off and every bone in my body is being pressed together and molded into something else. The pain is so excruciatingly real, yet it can't be. Right?"

"I don't know," Clary said, warily. "It sounds like they're doing some sort of experimenting in here. I doubt they're wiping your memories for no reason. Some of your dreams must be real." The girl nodded, and something at her neck shimmered. "That's a pretty necklace."

The girl clasped her hand over it automatically. "I almost forgot I was wearing it," she gasped. "They told me to take it off, but I don't want to. My brother gave it to me about a month before he passed away, claiming that it would protect me. I don't believe in that mumbo-jumbo, but it's the last thing I ever received from him."

Clary frowned. She didn't have any siblings, but she felt her heart ache for this girl. If Simon was the closest thing she had to a brother. If he passed away and had given her a keep-sake like that necklace, she wouldn't have taken it off lightly. _Simon. _She had no idea how long she'd been out for, but she missed Simon dearly. She rarely ever went without seeing or talking to him. It had been torture when he went to Outdoor's School a few summers ago and had no way to comminuate with him. Now she was stuck in this prison for God knows how long. Clary was pretty positive that they wouldn't let her use her cell phone to text her best friend.

"Keep it in your pocket," Clary suggested. The ugly pajamas had their perks with two little pockets on each side of the pant legs. The girl pursed her lips and took the necklace off, clenching it tightly in her fist before sticking it gently in her right pocket.

"What's your name?"

"It's Clary. Clary Morgenstern."

"My name is-"

"Morgenstern," a male voice exclaimed from the other side of the wall. Suddenly, the door to their cell swung open and a boy with messy black hair and blue eyes walked in. The girl- dang, she still didn't know her name- opened her eyes in fear. Clary was automatically wary of this person.

"You're Clary Morgenstern?" He asked, the surprise evident in his eyes.

"Yeah," she said. "Who wants to know?"

The boy smirked and shook his head. "You don't get to know my name." He paused for a minute to study her and she squirmed in her seat. She didn't like being stared at. "You're a lot smaller than I expected," he said, finally.

"Why were you expecting me at all?" Clary asked, hoping to get some answers.

The boy waggled his finger. "Sorry, can't tell you that. You'll find out soon enough, though." He then rested his gaze on the other girl in the room. "Hello, Tess. Are you enjoying the book I lent you?"

"I'm not going to read that garbage," she spat.

The boy shrugged. "Suit yourself." He then exited the room.

"Well that was weird," Clary decided. "So your name is Tess?"

"It's Theresa, but I go by Tessa. Please don't call me Tess." Clary nodded in understanding. She absolutely hated it when people called her Clarissa. They only used her full name if they were making fun of her or if they were her parents.

Tessa held up a small hard-cover book. "This is what he gave me to read. I don't understand why though? It's a Tale of Two Cities. Have you read it?"

Clary made a face. "Yeah, in English class last year. It really is garbage, huh?"

"No, no, no," Tessa exclaimed. She continued in a quieter tone. "On the contrary! This is my favorite book. I just didn't want William to know that we have a similar taste in books." Clary smiled. At least she knew two names now.

She only wondered why that William boy was making such a big deal about her being here. She pulled the covers tight around her body and sighed. Oddly enough, she was still very tired. Clary decided that she would try to figure out as much as she could tomorrow. Right now was a time for sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Clary woke up to the slamming of a door. She looked up to see the boy who kidnapped her standing at the door and looking impatient. Scanning the room she realized that Tessa wasn't with her anymore.

"Rise and shine!" He said with a smile. "We're going for a walk."

Clary frowned. "What if I don't want to?"

"I guess I'd have to carry you then. You have no lamps to hit me with this time. I made sure of that." Clary rolled her eyes, something she'd been doing a lot of lately, but got up anyway. Despite what some people might say, getting stabbed with a random tranquilizer needle does _not _feel good. Clary didn't want to experience it again.

Jace opened the door wider and gestured for her to go through. Clary rolled her eyes (she definitely needed more facial expressions to show exasperation) and walked with him.

"So, how are you liking it at Hotel Lightwood," he asked happily once they were out in the hallway.

"Is it really called that?"

"No, but it should be." Clary didn't understand why he was acting so calmly. She imagined kidnappers to be mean and scary. Although he was wearing all black and he was quite a bit taller than her, he had kind eyes. They were a kind of gold color, something she'd never seen on someone before. Her hand itched to draw him, but she didn't have her sketchbook. _Damn, _she thought sarcastically, _I should've packed it. _

"Here we are," he said, pointing to a door to their right. She went inside and looked around. It looked pretty similar to her room except there were no beds. There was a table in the middle of the room and a lamp. There also looked to be… A sketchpad?

"You can sit down," he said, closing the door quietly.

"Why? What am I supposed to do?"

"By the Angel, you're just full of questions. Look, if you do what I ask you to, I'll answer two of your many questions at the end. Deal?"

"Fine." She sat down in the chair and looked at him expectantly. "Happy?"

"Very." He leaned on the opposite side of the table and crossed his arms. "I want you to pick up the pen there." She pointed at the large black pen. "Yes that one. Why do you even need to ask? It's the only pen in the room."

"You're the only pen in the room." She couldn't think of any good comebacks so she had to resort to immaturity which was one of her best skills. She could be very immature if she wanted to, something she was proud of because she didn't even have any siblings to argue with when she was younger. She picked up the childishness all on her own.

"Okay then. Anyway, I want you to pick up that pen and draw whatever comes to your mind on that piece of paper in front of you. Ready, set, go."

She gave him a blank stare. "You want me to draw for you?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "You're impossible! Yes I want you to draw for me."

Clary shrugged and picked up the pen. It was a little too big for her small hand, but she made it work anyway. Taking a deep breath, she set the pen to the paper and started to draw a cat. Clary didn't know what she was supposed to draw, but she figured that a cat would suffice. If not, sucks to suck.

"What are you- Is that a cat? You seriously drew a cat."

"You told me to draw whatever came to my mind. Be glad that I didn't draw an ugly picture of you."

"There's no such thing as an ugly picture of me. And keep in mind that I could just knock you unconscious and figure everything out by dissecting your brain."

Clary sighed. "That's not possible." Upon seeing Jace's serious face, she didn't really feel like calling his bluff. She very much liked her brain. "Fine. What do you want me to draw? And don't tell me to _draw what my heart desires_ or I'll just draw more cats."

He paused for a minute to think. "Draw something that isn't real. I want you to make something up. Don't think about it. Just scribble something!"

_Here goes nothing. _She started to draw again, only this time, she disconnected her hand from her body. Not literally, but in her mind. She imagined that she had no control over what she was drawing. It worked somewhat. Her hand etched a few strands here and there and she was happy until she saw that it was just a weird group of connected lines, but apparently that's what Jace wanted because he snatched it off the desk.

"That's perfect! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to-"

"Answer my questions," she interrupted. "Remember our deal?"

"Damn it. I was hoping you'd forget." He sighed and sat back down on the table again. "What would you like to know?"

"Why is Tessa here," she asked immediately.

"Really? You'd rather know about her than yourself?"

"Just answer the question."

He pressed his lips into a firm line. "I can't exactly tell you about Tessa because she's Will and Jem's assignment and I don't know very much about her. Alec, Izzy and I were assigned to you. I can only tell you that she is important for our… research, just like you."

Clary nodded, trying to think of a good last question. She didn't want to waste it on something like _'what's your favorite color'. _She tended to blurt out stupid things like that.

Finally, after a few moments of thinking, she landed on something she was curious about.

"Earlier, like yesterday or something, a guy named William came into my room. I'm assuming that would be the Will that you were just talking about. Anyway, he was staring at me like he was trying to evaluate me and he said something along the lines of 'you're not how I expected you to be.' What was he talking about?"

"Honestly, no one knows what goes through Will's mind and that's a lot coming from me because he's my cousin." Clary glared at him. He had to know a little more than that. "That's really all I can tell you. As hard as it may be to imagine, I don't know everything there is to know. I'm also not the one in charge here."

"Who is, then?"

"I can't tell you that either."

Clary groaned. "So you pretty much can't tell me anything." Jace smiled and nodded. "Fine. I do have one more question. This one is pretty easy. Was your dad really my dad's best friend in college?"

Jace laughed. "You're still hung up on that? No, he wasn't. My dad didn't go to college. Not in your world at least."

"What do you mean _my world_?"

"Forget I said that. Anyway, it's a kind of illusion that we use. It's called glamour. It can be used to trick people into believing or seeing something that isn't true."

"So it's like magic?"

Jace snorted. "I guess it's like magic. Anyway, it's time to go." He stood up, gently tugged on her arm and pulled her to the door. As he opened it, someone with black hair was walking by. _Could that be Will?_

"Ah, Alec, just the man I wanted to see." The boy turned around. He had black hair and blue eyes like Will, but his hair was a little shorter and his eyes were a few shades lighter.

"What is it?" When he walked into the light, Clary recognized him as one of the Lightwoods from their little dinner party. _Geez, _she thought, _I'm really slow. _

"I need you to walk Clary back to her room. I have to deal with this." Jace showed him the piece of paper that Clary had drawn on and Alec nodded in understanding.

"See you later, Red," Jace said with a smile. He then walked away at a very fast-pace.

"Come on. Let's get you back to your room then." Alec started walking in the direction towards their cell and Clary fell in step with him.

"Is he always so enthusiastic?" She asked him.

"Jace? Yep. He's pretty much never serious. Unfortunately, that means I have to clean up all of his messes. Not that I think of you as a mess," he stuttered. "I, uh, sorry. I just meant that he's not very responsible."

Clary laughed. She was beginning to feel more comfortable. Although she was a prisoner, she really didn't feel like one. So far, all the people that she had met were fairly kind to her. The only thing she was worried about was the food. Prisons usually had terrible food and she doubted that _Hotel Lightwood _was a five-star restaurant. Little did she know, but her meal was being cooked in the kitchen as she walked back to her room by none other than Chef Izzy.


End file.
